


Strangeness and Charm

by blackkat



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dimension Travel, Found Family, Gen, Humor, M/M, Reborn this is not how you introduce yourself, assassins and ninjas and mafiosos oh my, competent!Tsuna, he's still Tsuna tho, lots of shrieking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 05:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9864173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Reborn is never going to believe another word that comes out of Iemitsu’s mouth ever again.(Or, Tsuna gets himself a teacher, a new skillset, and a family that’s twice as insane as in canon. Reborn is not amused.)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SparkleMoose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SparkleMoose/gifts).



Reborn is never going to believe another word that comes out of Iemitsu’s mouth ever again.

Gritting his teeth, he brings Leon up again, gun form leveled at the fleeing form of his newest student, and fires without hesitation. Normal bullets, because there's no way Reborn is wasting Dying Will bullets on this little brat, but—

He misses.

Reborn doesn’t _miss_.

Nevertheless, the moment Tsuna hears the trigger click, he gives a high-pitched yelp and dives to the side, rolls, and comes up running. The bullet only skims his arm, tearing his shirt, but since Reborn was aiming for his shoulder it might as well have missed him by a mile. And the minute Reborn _stops_ firing, Tsuna leaps for the nearest fence, scales it with a startling amount of monkey-like skill, and dives headlong over the top. There's no massive crash, so he must have missed the garbage bins on the other side.

With a huff, Reborn lets Leon slip back into the shape of a chameleon, frowning as the lizard scurries up to sit on the brim of his hat. He eyes the fence Tsuna climbed, then leaps lightly to the top of it, just in time to see a head of fluffy brown hair disappearing around the far end of the block.

That, Reborn thinks contemplatively, was not the reaction of a little boy unused to danger or physical exertion outside of gym class. Tsuna knew where all of his limbs were going, knew exactly where to put his feet and shift his weight to give himself the most speed. More importantly, he knew to get away as quickly as possible, rather than stay and try to confront his attacker.

Nana didn’t accept the tutoring offer the way Iemitsu insisted she would. Barely even glanced at it, before laughing a little to herself and dropping it into the paper bin with a nostalgic smile. And, after a check of Tsuna’s grades, Reborn can understand why. He’s not the best student, but solid Bs aren’t anything to complain about.

That left cornering the brat, and Reborn is mildly mystified by the result.

He thinks, for a moment, of calling Iemitsu and taking his frustrations out on the idiot, but it won't be nearly as satisfying over the phone as it would be in person, when he could actually do damage. _Deserved_ damage, for the idiot cheerfully insisting that Tsuna was sweet, clumsy, and pretty much helpless in all situations.

With an irritated sigh, Reborn tips his hat back, weighing his options. He can track Tsuna down and try to test his reflexes again, or he can head back to Nana’s house and tell her he’s a friend of her husband’s, though that will likely trigger more sentiment than he’d prefer. _Or_ he could scout the area, and try to figure out just where Tsuna picked up the ability to dodge bullets.

That last one sounds most appealing. If he follows the brat, he’s going to be irritated enough to actually _try_ to hit him, and Reborn doesn’t need to kill the last remaining Vongola heir in a bout of temper. Nana will probably cry tears of joy if he tells her Iemitsu sent him, and Reborn hates dealing with crying women. Tsuna had to have picked up his skills _somewhere_ , though, because that’s not the kind of thing one learns without a teacher and a lot of practice.

Decided, Reborn is just about to leap down from the fence when something cool and familiar touches his mind. It’s subtle, far more subtle than he’s felt from anyone but Viper in a long time, but the trace of Mist Flames is undeniable. Carefully, Reborn marshals his mental defenses, focusing on shielding himself completely, and reaches for Leon again.

“That’s not polite,” he says pointedly, flipping the safety off the gun and tipping his fedora down over his eyes a little further. “Aren’t you going to introduce yourself first before you go rummaging around in my head?”

There's a pause as the Mist Flames retreat, and a shadow darts across the edge of Reborn’s field of vision. He doesn’t turn to follow it, but keeps his attention spread out, and it’s enough to catch another flicker of motion off to the left. A whisper, like a voice just out of his range of hearing, and then—

Movement again, but blatant this time. Reborn watches the man step out of the shadows, so light-footed his steps don’t even make a sound. Not tall, but muscular like a gymnast, with messy dark hair and one visible black eye in a heavily scarred face. Reborn can't pick out any visible weapons, but that definitely doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Especially if this is a fellow Flame user.

“It’s not polite to shoot at little kids, either,” the man says, and that tone could be even if Reborn managed to ignore the thread of danger beneath the words. “But I didn’t see that stop you.”

Tsuna’s teacher, then, clearly. Reborn hesitates, but then nods. He doesn’t let go of his gun, but he lets it fall a little, an invitation to continue rather than a threat. “I was testing his capabilities,” he says mildly, and catches another shift in the periphery, not nearly as skilled as the scarred man’s movement. He keeps one eye on the man as he glances over, and—

Tsuna. But he’s not alone. There's a tall boy with blue hair beside him, mismatched eyes narrowed faintly. A girl is on his other side, the heavy trident in her hands a twin to the blue-haired boy’s, and she’s sporting a similar eyepatch to the scarred man. A pace behind them, just far enough to the side that he can step in to cover all three if he needs to, is another teenager with a sheathed sword across his back and sharp amber eyes that are all too familiar above a deceptively cheery smile. If he’s not an assassin yet, Reborn thinks, he will be soon.

“Tsuna,” the man says sharply, and Reborn’s attention snaps back to him, though his gaze is on Tsuna now. “I told you to go—”

“I'm not leaving,” Tsuna says, and it’s faintly tremulous but still as stubborn as a goat underneath. “You said he was probably dangerous.”

The man looks exasperated. “Yeah, meaning you should _leave_. Kyōya should be in his office—”

Tsuna shakes his head, and it’s only the swordsman’s hand on his shoulder that keeps him from stepping forward. “You're after me, aren’t you?” he asks, and this time it’s aimed at Reborn directly. “W-why?”

Reborn allows himself to ignore the faint stutter in the name of focusing on the question, though a part of him is mildly annoyed that Tsuna can move so competently and still be so timid. The rest is reluctantly intrigued. “That’s a conversation to have in private,” he says lightly. “You can send your friends home, Tsuna. I'm not going to try to kill you.”

Tsuna takes a breath, steeling himself, and meets Reborn’s eyes. “Whatever you want to tell me you can tell everyone here,” he says firmly, and just for a moment Reborn thinks he sees his eyes flare with orange light. “Obito is my teacher, and these are my family.”

Well. An interesting thought. Reborn is fairly certain they're not Family, not yet, but…there's potential there. It seems as if Reborn’s job might be easier than he expected.

“Have you ever heard of omertà?” he asks, and watches as both Obito and the blue-haired boy go stiff. Tsuna doesn’t move, but unless Reborn is completely mistaken the brown is bleeding out of his eyes, and the light of Sky Flames is rising to replace it.

“You're with the yakuza,” Tsuna says quietly, and something like defiance is kindling in his face. “If you want to take them back, I—I'm going to stop you!”

Them. Reborn blinks, caught off guard, and slowly tips his hat back. “Mafia,” he corrects, “not yakuza. I'm not here to take anyone away, Tsuna. I'm here because the Vongola Famiglia is in need of an heir, and you're the last one left.”

Tsuna pales, and in an instant he’s just a child again, barely a teenager. He takes a step back, and almost automatically the boy and girl with the trident step in front of him, the boy with the sword moves behind him. Deeper in the shrubbery, two distinct somethings move, shifting closer.

Most of Reborn’s attention is on Obito, though. The man is three steps closer than he was before, and his one visible eye has changed from solid black to scarlet and midnight, the iris shaped like an elongated pinwheel. There's anger on his face, nearly enough to cover the fear, and when Reborn’s gaze lands on him he smiles like it’s a threat and says, “Over my dead body. That’s a death sentence, and I'm not about to let Tsuna be killed for his _bloodline_.”

The way he spits the last word makes it sound like a curse, and Reborn raises a curious brow. Family issues, then—it might help identify him, if he comes from a mafia Family.

“He’ll be a target either way,” Reborn points out, trying to keep his tone reasonable. Shooting Tsuna’s teacher won't exactly win him brownie points. And besides, Reborn has a reason to be grateful to him; if Tsuna already has the basic groundwork, it means Reborn can start drilling Flame techniques into his head sooner.

Obito flinches faintly at the words, and Reborn stops. Considers his next sentence carefully in the face of the reaction—Family, rather than Famiglia—and says, “He’s a lot less likely to die if I can teach him the skills he needs. It seems like you’ve already started.”

The man’s expression pulls into a sort of rueful grimace. “I've been teaching him ninjutsu,” he says. “The mafia don’t tend to rely on such things.”

It’s been long enough since Reborn was last in Japan that he has to turn that word over a few times, but…well. Ninja and assassin aren’t all that far apart. “Flames?” he asks, testing.

Obito hesitates, eyeing him warily, but when Reborn makes no other moves he inclines his head. “I'm a Cloud,” he says, and nods at the two blue-haired teenagers. “They're Mists, and he’s a Rain.” The swordsman waves cheerfully, and Obito rolls his eyes, though there's a hint of a smile touching his mouth as he adds, “I assume you know what Tsuna is already.”

If Reborn hadn’t, that glimpse of orange filling his eyes would have been enough to give it away. “I do. Tsuna, do you understand what’s happening?” Because Iemitsu, curse him, swore his son had no knowledge of the mafia, but clearly that idea is so far gone as to be laughable. If Tsuna can control his Flames and reacts to the threat of the mafia taking his friends, he probably knows at least the basics.

“The Vongola Family is one of the biggest,” Tsuna says, and his voice wavers faintly. “I don’t—I'm Japanese, not Italian! I can't—!”

“Tsuna, breathe,” Obito says, and in an instant he’s across the clearing, one hand on Tsuna’s shoulder to pull him around. Tsuna looks up automatically, and whatever he sees on Obito's face is enough to make him take a breath, careful and controlled. Obito waits until he takes three, all steady and perfectly spaced, and then nods and steps back. A glance at Reborn, and he says, “An ancestor far back in the family tree?”

“On your father’s side,” Reborn agrees, directing his words at his new student, and sees Tsuna’s fists clench faintly, his mouth pull unhappily tight. Clearly Iemitsu hasn’t endeared himself to his son, not that Reborn can blame Tsuna.

“Oya,” the boy with the trident says, shifting a little as his eyes flicker over their surroundings in a faux-casual sweep. “Maybe these kinds of things are best discussed inside.”

Tsuna blinks, turning to look at him, and then nods. “You're right. Obito, can we go to your house?”

Obito's smile is a little crooked. “Go on, it’s not like I could stop you brats anyway. Chikusa, Ken, are you coming out any time soon?”

The bushes rustle, and a blond and dark-haired boy slink out to stand behind the others. The blond looks over at the boy in the beanie, who simply pushes his glasses up and asks blandly, “Who’s going to retrieve Hibari?”

Tsuna blanches, ducking back like he’s looking for a place to hide, and Obito snorts. “Go,” he orders again. “I’ll get Kyōya, you cowards. Besides, what he’ll do if you wake him is nothing compared to what he’ll do if you leave him out of a possible fight.”

“All my choices are bad,” Tsuna moans, and when the blue-haired boy laughs at him he waves a balled-up fist in his direction, though the sense of a threat is lacking. “Stop it, Mukuro! Just because you _like_ making him mad doesn’t mean sane people do!”

The swordsman laughs, tucking his hands behind his head. “Dad says that’s just another way of flirting,” he offers cheerfully. “Pulling pigtails, right?”

Mukuro makes a sound of amusement, leaning on his trident, and his red eye glows eerily in the shadows. “He has such pretty pigtails, too,” he says, as smug as a cat in the canary’s nest.

Tsuna grimaces like the very thought is making him nauseous. “Mukuro! Yamamoto!”

“Sorry, sorry, Tsuna,” Yamamoto says, though he doesn’t look sorry at all. He flanks Tsuna as the boy starts forward, and while Tsuna gives Reborn a healthy berth, Yamamoto watches him with an assassin’s sharp eyes, looking for a weakness. The quiet girl follows them, with Mukuro and the last two boys bringing up the rear.

Reborn watches the leave, marks the way they never let Tsuna out of reach of at least one of their number, and then glances over at Obito where he’s watching Reborn in return. “You must be a decent teacher,” he says, amused.

This time, Obito's grimace is deep enough to pull at his scars, twisting them into something strange. “Not by choice,” he answers, and pauses, looking Reborn over. “But they're still mine, and if you threaten them, you should know that I've killed many, many people in my life, and I won't hesitate to add to that number.”

Reborn raises an impressed brow, because there are good threats and bad ones, and delivery is everything. That was a _very_ good one, and if he weren’t the world’s strongest hitman he might even be intimidated.

“My job is to keep Tsuna alive and build up his Family,” he says bluntly, holding Obito's sharp gaze. “I want him to survive what’s coming just as much as you.”

“I doubt that,” Obito scoffs, but he holds out his hand, the pinwheel in his eye spinning slowly. “Uchiha Obito.”

“Reborn,” he returns, and it’s not the usual gesture an adult would make towards a baby, but Reborn appreciates it. He reaches out, sets his hand in Obito's grip and feels callused fingers close over his own. Then, quicker than even his eyes can follow, Obito's left hand snaps out to slam his palm over the pacifier hanging around Reborn’s neck.

The world twists out from under his feet in a blaze of pain and golden Sun Flames, and before Reborn can even raise his gun he’s slamming down into the earth full-force, breathless from the impact. A wheeze, breathless and heavier than it should be, and Reborn leaps back to his feet—

And stops dead.

Obito smirks at him, and the impact isn’t lost even if he now has to tip his head back to meet Reborn’s eyes. “I thought so. I assume you know that pacifier is cursed?”

Reborn stares at him narrowly, halfway to disbelieving, and then reaches down to carefully pick up the pacifier glowing around his neck. It’s strange to see his hands as those of an adult, stranger still to feel the power of the Arcobaleno pacifier still burning through him, but—there's a mark. Faint, barely visible against the glow of the Sun Flames, but undoubtedly there. Reborn studies the curving loops inscribed in something that isn’t supposed to be touched by any power but Checker Face’s, and then looks back up at the other man.

“What did you do?” he asks suspiciously.

Obito's smile goes faintly crooked, like he’s remembering something bittersweet. “It’s a seal. That power is like a bijuu’s, and you're basically a jinchuuriki. I've studied them more than enough to know how to deal with something like that.”

Reborn blinks, completely blank, and slowly raises a brow.

Obito huffs like _he’s_ the one being difficult here. “I separated your power and that thing’s power, but it’s like a one-way mirror. You can pull out whatever you need, but it can’t take from you. So no effect.”

Reborn still has no clue what he did, but he’s not about to _say_ that. Instead, he drops the pacifier back against his chest, to hang among the shredded remains of his shirt, and says, “Leon, if you would?”

It takes a minute, but cloth settles back over Reborn’s skin. No fedora, but Reborn supposes that can wait until he finds a decent tailor. Obito is still waiting, still watching him, arms folded over his chest as he leans back against a tree. When he sees Reborn looking back he smirks, asks lightly, “All done?” and pushes upright.

“I think I need to visit my tailor,” Reborn answers, but it’s hardly a complaint. He looks down at his hands again, no longer a baby’s awkward, chubby fingers but strong, weathered. They're what he remembers from years ago, and had thought he’d never see again. A glance up, and he asks, “Could you do that with other Flames?”

Obito eyes him a little warily, but tips one shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t see why not.”

Reborn files that information away to be shared at his discretion, and then asks, “Who are you?”

“Uchiha Obito,” he repeats, and then, catching Reborn’s sharp look, sighs and adds, “I'm a shinobi. Beyond that, it’s my business. My only ties are to Tsuna and his friends, though, if that will ease your mind.” A pause, and he smiles again, bittersweet and crooked. “Tsuna saved my life when Mukuro, Ken, and Chikusa dragged me here. I was…well. A little crazy. Tsuna and Nana brought me back.”

The two unnamed boys, Reborn assumes, looking Obito over again. “You must have been here a while, to have taught Tsuna so much.”

Obito doesn’t answer for a second, but he presses a hand over his covered left eye with an expression like weary acceptance, and then smiles ruefully. “Five years now.”

 _That smile_ , Reborn thinks, not quite able to help himself. _Well now_.

“No ties to anyone but Tsuna?” he asks, just to make sure.

Another pause, but this one is just as rueful as his smile. “Technically I sort of owe the Vindice a favor.”

Reborn feels his eyebrows creeping upwards. “The Vindice,” he echoes. “A favor.”

“Rokudo Mukuro?” Obito retorts, lifting a brow right back.

…And _that_ would be where Reborn last remembered hearing that name. And combined with Obito's words about killing a number of people—

If Reborn’s reckoning is correct (and it is), Tsuna’s already managed to wrangle four convicted murderers, an assassin-in-training, and a Hibari into his Family. That’s fairly impressive, given the circumstances.

He opens his mouth to ask another question, but before the first syllable can escape, Obito glances up at the setting sun, says, “The school is this way,” and leaps from the ground to the roof the building on their right like gravity has entirely ceased to matter.

Reborn watches him flicker across the street and disappear into the shadows like a ghost, then shakes his head in something like disbelief and picks up his pace, heading for the school at a faster clip than he’s used in a very long time.

Well. Whatever happens next, training Tsuna is definitely not going to be anywhere near as dull as Reborn expected.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Strangeness and Charm [PODFIC]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12363072) by [Opalsong](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong)




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